Under the Aegis
by SeraNyx
Summary: Um... just starting. Will be an alternative reality fic exploring why Severus Snape and Sirius Black turned out the way they did. First try at Potter fanfic.
1. The Muggle Way

**Disclaimer: First try at HP FanFic.**

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Severus Snape listened to the chilly plink of the broken faucet. It was soothing. The reverberations in his head weren't being caused by a rough voice barking coarse words, or the rubbery crack of flesh smacking flesh. He closed his eyes.

He wouldn't sleep. He concentrated hard on the echoes of the water drops. Severus was bone tired, but his father had yet to come home. He was not still at his apothecary, delayed on very important business, per his mother's old fib. What she used to tell the neighbors, when they used to look at her.

His mother was once a beautiful woman: fair hair, snowy skin, glistening lips, the fairytale type. That was why his father had married her "anyway." Squibs were no better than Muggles in his book, but a Squib with a face and a boy like hers excited a battle between instincts and indoctrination that the former had clearly won. There was never any love. His mother wanted money, and what his father wanted from her was plain enough.

There was some hope early on, hope that her good looks would improve upon the classic Snape face. But, Severus turned out to be the spitting image of his father. His little brother fared better with looks, yet lacked the magical talent that would make his father proud. He drowned. There were no more children.

Severus shared his father's features, and faculty for potions-brewing, but he hoped the similarities ended there. His father was… chaotic. There was a sloppy bestiality in him that he unleashed upon wife and child too often. Under the aegis of books with black covers and intimidating titles, Severus's fear had long turned into disgust. Since he could remember, his father had surrendered himself to alcohol and rage. This weakness repulsed him.

Weakness was a flaw distinct in both parents, yet Severus had a soft spot for his mum. There was his weakness. His mother was as much of a devious fool as his father, but for reasons that were unclear even to him, he saw her as more a victim. And though he did all that he could think of to make himself as cool and removed as echoes on stone, he suffered from an acute case of commiseration.

So past midnight and into the early morning, Severus lay awake in bed, sheets tugged from the corners, rubbing his wrist raw on the mattress edge. His wand was in the other hand, ready. He was oppressively tired. It was getting harder for him to breathe.

He looked to his right, at the admissions letter lying open on the nightstand. Hogwarts. How he wished there were Snapes on the other side of the Wall. He'd just finished Hogwarts, A History, and was less than impressed. He thought that a class like Care of Magical Creatures existed so that "Hufflepuffs" could pretend that they too were capable of (loosely) academic magic, when they should actually be put to wiping the floor of his father's store. He had to admit, though, that he'd found a prestige about the Slytherin House that all of Durmstrang couldn't rival….

He blinked. One second. Had he fallen asleep? There wasn't a window in his room from which to judge. He listened: no snoring, no noises downstairs. Whatever time it was, his father wasn't here now.

Grudgingly, he stood up and opened the door so that a sliver of moonlight lit a slice of his face. All clear, he slipped through the crack, walking down the hallway with caution. It was here that, over the years, a great many hexes had been put to practical use. His parent's bedroom was at the end of the hall, and he hoped his father wasn't in a state to greet him.

Their door was not shut. He peeked inside and saw his father's side of the bed, empty. His mother's side, empty too. And not a sound. He put a hesitant palm on the heavy door he knew would squeak, and pushed. It gave way to show a scene that his logical mind had expected, some day—but it was, right now, a savage shock.

He'd done it the Muggle Way. She was a mess…

Severus stumbled out of the room like a blind man, shaky hands gripping the doorjamb till his knuckles turned white, then lying flat against the wall as it looked like he would collapse on the hallway floor. Instead, he leaned his weight on the wall, his fingers clawing at it. His hands turned into fists, and he banged them against the scratchy stone until the travel line of his palm was covered in his own blood.

He wasn't crying—he didn't feel like crying, either. There wasn't anywhere for any thought or emotion to manifest itself right now. The inside of his entire head had turned into a white heat, and that was the real horror that had him pounding his fists to a pulpy mess. His hands didn't hurt, though his eyes could see that they looked like they certainly should. It appeared that his mind objected to what it had been forced to reason with, and had decided to disconnect itself. The sudden gulf between brain and body was sending Severus into a panic.

The door downstairs slammed open. Severus blinked. It was his father, no doubt. He unclenched his fists, then clenched them again, feeling something was slightly wrong. His hand was empty—he'd dropped his wand. He looked to his right, saw the handle of his wand just inside the door of his parents' bedroom. His stomach lurched, but his mind was still petrified, and it stubbornly refused to make itself up. If he dove for the wand, he wouldn't have time anyway to retreat to his bedroom and put a sticking charm on the door. If he dove under the sheets, his father would see the abandoned wand and take the opportunity to get at his son when he was defenseless. And if he just stood there in the hallway halfway between either bedroom, the damnedest kind of fool, he'd be just asking for it.

He went for the wand. He was still kneeling when he heard his father's voice boom.

"Expelliarmus!" His wand shot out from his hand and skittered down the hall until it clunked against something, his father's boots, no doubt.

"Turn around and face me, boy." That stern, saturated voice. He'd heard it a thousand times over, and a thousand times his heart had raced at that sound. But this time, a curious feeling overtook Severus that wasn't fear or loathing. His whole body suddenly went hot, yet cold, as though the white heat in his head had seeped into every part of him. He didn't look his father in the eye. He looked down at the floor.

"Accio wand."

He knew later that there had been surprise in his father's face. It was the expression he died with, thunderstruck for all eternity. Severus had practiced plenty of spells in the solitude of his room that he hadn't trotted out for family tussles. Others he learned just for learning. His father had some idea of how advanced his son was—he'd needed potions to get rid of some of the hexes thrown at him, sometimes potions that he made Severus finish mixing for him—but he was far from knowing enough about his son to know exactly what to expect.

So while the waifish 11-year-old stood there as still as he had ever been, his eyes no more fathomless than how they usually appeared, the accio'd wand limp at his side, his father had time to shield himself against, at worst, a blasting curse or a stunning spell, a bit bored, even, by his son's predictability. No small wonder that his face would be frozen in astonishment when the green sparks reached him.


	2. An Exceptional Student

Disclaimer: First try at HP FanFic.

Severus Snape was an orphan at eleven years old. The sight of his mother's mangled body was frozen in his memory, and he was facing serious time in Azkaban for the murder of his father. His mind was as blank as it was the night he became an orphan, stray thoughts tumbling idly round his head. At the moment, the one that bobbed to the surface was: blue poodles. The apathy of it stung dully. He would be a disappointment to the Dementors, nothing for them to savor.

Millicent Bagnold, Minister of Magic, had blue hair. It had been crushed into a mat of flat, fluffy curls that crowned an unnaturally still face. Her eyes alone moved: sliding from the child seated in front of her, slouching with creepy indifference, to the Chief Warlock seated besides her, stroking his long silver beard. She waited, interestedly, for the latter to address the former.

Before presenting all the evidence, before conducting the interrogation, Bagnold had told Albus Dumbledore that she was leaving office soon, and would rather not be remembered as the Minister Who Sent a Child to Azkaban. Dumbledore acknowledged that he, too, hoped to avoid meting a sentence that, per the books, matched the crime. But both knew that they were standing on the threshold of Dark Times. They could not now afford to be carelessly forgiving in the case of someone as frightening as Severus Snape. Here was a pre-adolescent who possessed the power required of successfully casting an Unforgivable Curse. Those in power could not afford to be sentimental.

One of two decisions could be met. The boy's ability could be found to be hopelessly corrupted. Or, the opinion could be reached he might still be saved. It was Dumbledore's call, and though both had heard the same testimony, reviewed the same history, Bagnold could not guess at Dumbledore's thoughts. He was a shrewd man, yes, but soft-hearted. He would be inhuman if his compassion never once clouded his judgment. And here was Severus, a young, young boy who had plainly grown up in a malefic environment, the result of much physical and mental abuse, his talents steered towards poisons as a matter of everyday life, curses and hexes as a mater of everyday survival. Was he a lost cause? Or wasn't he?

"Severus." Gloomy eyes made a lazy sweep from the carpet to the wizard who addressed him. "Where do you think you will go once you leave this room?"

The man with the silver beard was peering at him through half-moon glasses. There was something powerful about this man that filled Severus with respect. It wasn't the same kind of force his father had possessed, the kind that made respect from fear. The wizened wizard had a gentle glow of might that made Severus want to run to, not from, him. He concentrated on the question, and answered truthfully.

"I performed an Unforgivable Curse, sir. I'll be sent to Azkaban." He hesitated, unsure if he should say the rest. "I… I don't know of anywhere else I could go."

Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully. "Did you not respond to an admissions letter from Hogwarts?"

Severus furrowed his brow slightly, but kept his gaze steady. "I did, sir, yes, but, I don't think they'll let me attend now." He raised his eyebrows, almost hopefully. Did Dumbledore think otherwise?

"Ah," said Dumbledore simply. He smiled at Severus before going on. "Were you looking forward to attending Hogwarts?"

Severus frowned. There was a twinkle in the old man's eye. Was he being teased? His eyes flicked over to Minister Bagnold. "I heard it has an excellent library. I was hoping to do as much reading as I could fit between classes. I would like — I would have liked, to research, as my career. There must be more potions to invent, properties to discover…" His head itched. "Cures to discover, um, medicines, to, help the sick…"

He looked back over at Dumbledore, who looked surprisingly satisfied, pleasantly satisfied. The thought that occupied Severus now was, Please send me to Hogwarts.

"Allow me to further introduce myself, Severus." Dumbledore extended his hand, and the boy shook it timidly. "Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and newly instated Hogwarts Headmaster. I invite you to complete your wizarding education at my humble institution."

Severus hand froze in Dumbledore's own, and he stared. He finally managed, "Thanks," somewhere between confusion and gratitude. Dumbledore smiled knowingly and patted the boy's hand.

"Good!" chirped Minister Bagnold. "Everything's settled in the best way then." Her quill scribbled on a parchment that could have easily been a ticket to prison. "Mr Snape, I wish you the best of luck at Hogwarts." She too shook and patted his hand, but it seemed like it was more to reassure herself than Severus.

They all rose, and Dumbledore showed Severus to the door. He stepped out just as Dumbledore said his goodbyes to Bagnold, and so barely caught the Minister's parting words.

"And I wish _you_ the best of luck, Dumbledore. I'm afraid you'll need it—what with the other two…"

"No worries, Minister. I have great confidence in all three… exceptional, students."

Two other "exceptional" students? Severus concentrated fixedly on the floor as Dumbledore joined him in the hallway, worried that his curiosity could be interpreted as sinister. He briefly darted his eyes towards his new headmaster, who was rolling up a small piece of parchment.

"If you don't mind, I'd like you to wait here, Severus. Term starts in just a few days and I must make my way back to Hogwarts. Someone will be with you shortly to help you with your school supplies, etc., and to settle you on the train."

He paused, eyes twinkling.

"And you'll meet one other exceptional student, I expect." He smiled, and walked away. Severus was caught between feeling excited and feeling violated. Was he really that transparent… or was Dumbledore a Legilimens? He hoped they taught that at the N.E.W.T. level…

Minutes later, he just felt surprise. A loud crack sounded from behind him, and suddenly he was standing in the shadow of something tall and dense. He ran out from the shadow and whipped around to see who—what—had engulfed him.

"Well hello there!" said a thick-bodied man from behind too much beard. "The name's Hagrid."

Severus swallowed a sigh made loud by the stretching of his neck. A big jolly Hufflepuff as his escort—all right, with a soul-sucking Dementor as an alternative, this wasn't so bad. He stared up at the giant-sized man.

Hagrid cleared his throat after a few more seconds of impolite silence from the boy. "Hope you don't mind, we'll be meeting another student once we get to Diagon Alley. But I suppose Dumbledore's told you that. Great man, Dumbledore, knew he'd give you a second chance, gave me one of my own…" Hagrid cleared his throat again and tapped a conspicuously pink umbrella against the floor. "Well, best be off then!"

In the space of a half hour, Severus had been smiled at more than he ever had been in his whole damned life. His mouth twitched, and he offered Hagrid a twisted attempt at a grin.

Hagrid was polite.


	3. Thwarted

Disclaimer: First try at HP FanFic.

Severus walked as far behind Hagrid as he could, his eyes on the bumpy cobblestones under his feet and his fingers gripping the Gringotts bag of money so tight that his fingers were whiter than usual. He and the man who it turned out was the Hogwarts Keeper of the Keys had just come out of Gringotts, and already they'd gathered quite a bit of stares. Severus wasn't sure if he could take all the attention any longer. It was a long list of school supplies, and his face burned at having to be seen everywhere with this oaf. Some of the folk in Diagon Alley were bound to recognize his face, and it would be accepted that Mr Snape had sent his son out on his own. But, the company of Hagrid would undoubtedly raise questions with terrible answers. He had to lose him.

Severus just stopped walking. "I can do this on my own," he called after Hagrid.

Hagrid turned and looked at the boy standing in the sunlight, his skin making evident that he didn't usually do that. The Keeper of the Keys mulled it over. "Well… I suppose so. You can meet me at the Leaky Cauldron when yer done." He leaned over Severus, who unconsciously leaned back. "Don't be runnin' off now."

"I have nowhere to go," said Severus with depressing gravity.

Hagrid blushed. "Well, that's… off with yeh! Don't be takin' too much time!" And he ambled back to the pub from which they had first come.

Severus watched him go, then watched the people around him. He suddenly realized just how much stuff the Hogwarts pupils were carrying. One boy, as skinny as himself, was struggling with a cauldron that overflowed with books. A witch walking by clicked her tongue impatiently, pointed her wand at him, and said "Locomotor cauldron." The object in question started to float ahead of the gawking boy. "Keep up with it!" she admonished. "Honestly!" As she walked away, she muttered, "Muggleborns…"

Though Severus knew the Locomotor spell, he decided to start small. He made his way to Ollivander's for a wand to replace the one the Ministry had snapped.

Ollivander's was narrow and shabby, but Severus felt a bit like he was entering a library, and therefore almost began to enjoy himself. Almost, for an old man appeared from behind a tall pile of wand boxes, took one look at Severus, and hummed to himself in a manner that was not encouraging.

"Severus Snape," said Mr Ollivander. He slowly moved towards the boy, the atmosphere growing uncomfortable. "Ah yes, I remember your father coming in not too long ago, trying to persuade me to sell a wand to his underage son. He was unsuccessful, of course. I'd never. Went then to Gregorovitch, I heard. I also heard what happened…

"Oh don't fret, boy," tutted Mr Ollivander, picking up a box from a stack close to the floor. "It's precisely that you're underage—the Ministry's banned it from all the papers. No, it was Dumbledore who told me you'd be coming to see me…"

He fixed Severus with a look of concentration. "Managing the Avada Kedavra curse at your age is astounding. I only have one wand in mind for you." He held out the box. Severus reached for it, but Mr Ollivander kept it just out of his grasp.

"But mind you. I don't sell you this wand so that you can use that curse again."

Severus clenched his jaw, then spoke firmly. "I'm — not — a — bad — person."

"Ah," said Mr Ollivander. He handed Severus a box that read Ebony, 9 Inches, Dragon Heartstring. "Prove it."

Severus left Ollivander's with less in Galleons but more in goals. He resolved to prove himself at Hogwarts. He would not spend the rest of his life with the nasty preconceptions his father had fitted on him. He'd show them all.

On his way to Madam Malkin's, he looked at the bottom of his list. Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad. The only uses he could think of for a toad involved its death. A cat was for witches. An owl, what good would that do him? Severus looked miserably at Magical Menagerie, thinking about how he had no one to write to.

He entered the pet store anyway. There were other animals besides owls and cats and toads. An "exceptional student" might be allowed an exception. He looked appreciatively at the rats, sympathetically at the turtles. Then, amidst all the squeaking, squawking, and jabbering, he heard an unusual hissing sound that was too unlike a snake.

Severus peered through a wire cage that held a group of nifflers; they were all packed against the far wall, staring the same as he was at a girl around his age who was talking to a red-and-white corn snake. In Parseltongue. The conversation did not seem to be going well: she looked offended, and the snake was moving his head in what appeared to be a contrite manner.

Suddenly, the girl turned her head, and Severus saw what had interested the nifflers. Her silver eyes were gleaming hypnotically. For a second, her eyes were the only impression he had of her. Then he could take in other defining features: fine black hair, white skin, cheekbones that reminded him of the snakes that that lay coiled in cages just behind her. And a mouth that for no apparent reason immediately struck him as strange. Then he remembered what he'd heard come out of it.

"You're a Parselmouth," he said, uncontrollably accusatory. It wasn't a good trait.

The girl didn't respond. She seemed to be staring at his greasy hair. Severus was crushingly aware that he was not an attractive sight. The girl, on the other hand, was mesmerizing. It was difficult to look away from her eyes, but the rest of her seemed quite pretty—

"You're a murderer," she said in a surprisingly low voice.

Severus was shocked. "What—how did—?" He found himself blinking back tears, and was ashamed. He clenched his fist around his wand.

The girl was still looking at his unwashed hair, not particularly preoccupied. Her mouth came alive; the edges stretched to form an unusually perfect U. "Don't even think about it."

Severus wanted to say something—but then there was a curious sensation. He was suddenly aware of how unnatural her face looked. The skin was mask-like; the eyes seemed to float apart; the cheekbones were exactly like a serpent's; and Merlin, that mouth, there was something horrible about that mouth, the way it crept across her face and divided it in half—he had the terrifying feeling that he was about to be devoured…

He found himself opening him mouth to scream, preparing to sprint away from her, then felt himself tripping over an obstacle in his path and falling hard on the floor. The overwhelming fear receded and a sharp pain from his nose replaced it.

He heard an icy laugh. He looked up and saw his reflection in a pair of well-polished boots. Getting to his knees, he pushed himself up and faced a smirking blond-haired boy of seventeen.

"Little sister," he drawled, "you should have waited and done it in the street." He looked at Severus with scorn. "Help pick up the mess you've made."

Severus looked to his left, and saw a house-elf dressed in filthy rags frantically putting Hogwarts school supplies back into their bags. Severus looked from the teenager to the elf, and silently waved his wand. What was lying on the floor neatly flew into the bags without an incantation.

The towhead looked at him in astonishment. Now it was Severus' turn to smirk.

"Impressive," said an equally icy, but much deeper voice. The teenager stepped aside. Severus immediately recognized the wizard who had joined the party; he'd been a client of his father.

"Lazarus Malfoy," said the wizard, introducing himself. "I was a client of your fathers."

Severus agreed with him.

"I heard what happened," continued Mr Malfoy. "Can't say I'll miss his presence, but I doubt that's what you'd like to hear anyway." He chuckled at Severus's try at a smile. "I will, however, miss his potions. But I've heard for some time now that you did more for the business than he did. I see now that may be true. Hogwarts?" Severus nodded. "Ah, Sera as well."

Severus turned to the girl behind him, who raised her eyebrows. She looked nothing like the other Malfoys, and didn't seem terribly impressed that she would be starting school.

"Been yet to the apothecary?" asked Mr Malfoy. Severus shook his head no. "How perfect. We were headed there just now. Please join us. Come, Sera. No snakes…"

The Malfoys and Severus left the Magical Menagerie, but did not head towards the other end of Diagon Alley. They took a right turn into the area where Severus—and, he suspected, the Malfoys—usually shopped: Knockturn Alley.

They had hardly turned the corner when the teenager spotted someone. "Narcissa!" He turned to Mr Malfoy, started to say "Father," but Lazarus was already nodding his approval. With a swish of his robes the towhead hurried to catch up with a girl of fifteen or sixteen that was disappearing into a clothing store. Mr Malfoy steered the two children directly into the apothecary on the opposite side of the street.

The place stank—but it smelled like home to Severus. His face instantly lit up. This was his area. He started for the shelves of ingredients, but looked back at Mr Malfoy, whom he found was watching him very carefully.

"Anything you want, Severus. This is on me."

Severus filled a basket with pieces of plants and animals and jars of gas and liquid that were required by Hogwarts and then some. Sera seemed unconcerned with starting her own collection. She went looking for the strangest things she could find—"BILE!"—and placed them in Severus' basket. Mr Malfoy observed the whole scene with a curious expression on his face. He finally spoke when Severus was at the back of the store, examining the rather expensive selection of snake eggs.

"I wonder. What potion would you make from frozen Ashwinder eggs?"

Severus thought. Ashwinder eggs were a rare but popular ingredient, and many a potion that contained them would be to Lazarus Malfoy's liking.

"The Furunculus Potion," he said, eyeing the older wizard. "It makes the blood boil. It looks and tastes like wine, but it can get too thinned if you add Erumpet fluid. But," said Severus, eyes widening, "if you do add it, the body explodes _spectacularly_." He shrugged. "I'd ask you whether you wanted to be subtle or shocking."

Mr Malfoy's eyebrows rose appreciatively. "And what potion, Mr Snape, would you make from Fluxweed juice?"

That was easy. "The Mindflux Potion." He'd heard his father describe it a hundred times. "It produces visual and auditory hallucinations. If it's powerful enough, people can get permanently fluxed. If you wanted," he said helpfully, "I could add alihotsy leaves. That can sometimes make the wizard disbelieve his own existence, and his panicness blinks him out of reality." He smiled proudly.

"Very well," said Mr Malfoy, his smile much more sinister. "Some Ashwinder eggs may find their way into your school supplies, perhaps."

Mr Malfoy took Severus' basket from him and made his way to the front counter, where there was a line of three other wizards. "Psst."

Severus casually looked to his right—then took a sudden step back. Those silver eyes were still startling. And it only got creepier as his own eyes traveled down her face. Sera was smiling broadly. The lines her mouth made across her cheeks seemed unusually deep and dark, creating a gash on an otherwise beautiful girl. He actually shuddered.

Sera seemed used to it. She was not offended, in any case. "Let me see your wand."

Severus looked at her. He wasn't sure if he should. But he handed her the wand, then looked away as she smiled widely again. "Get your wand yet?" he asked the compartment of frosty Ashwinder eggs.

"Won't be getting one." Now Severus did look at her. Sera was swishing and flicking his wand with obvious skill, but nothing was happen. She looked at it, sighed, and handed back it back to its owner. "Wouldn't be any use."

This was curious. "You're a squib, but they're letting you attend Hogwarts?"

"I'm not a squib," Sera said sharply. She jerked her head towards Mr Malfoy's back. "I'm not his daughter, either. I'm his ward. They just thought up a last name, nobody knows who my parents are, or they aren't telling." She tapped her fingers against the display case. "They must have been really rich or powerful though, the Malfoys aren't known for their honest charity."

"How can they not know who your parents are, if they took you in?"

"Dobby—the house-elf—found me on the steps. There was a very persuasive note, or something. I can only guess." She shrugged. "Mr Malfoy's an Occlumens."

Severus stared. "You're a Legilimens?"

"Kind of." Sera looked around his head. "We should go." She brushed past him. Severus followed her, something on his mind.

"Did you make me give you my wand?"

"Yep." Sera leaned back hard against the store door; the bell made a strangled jingle. "Don't be so spooked," she teased, seeing the expression on Severus' face. "It wasn't anything you wouldn't have done anyway. I can't persuade people to do things they haven't already considered doing."

"So… you can do… wandless magic."

There was a long pause. "Sorry, was that a question?"

"What were you saying to that snake?"

"I wanted to buy him, but when he saw me he said, 'Oh no, not a girl.' I was offended, but he had reason I guess. Another customer—a girl—had wanted to name him Candy Cane. I told him if he were mine, I'd call him Caine. But he was unfamiliar with the meaning. A snake, you see. Doesn't get much reading done." She wiggled her fingers. "I see a handbag in his future."

"Yeah." A beat. "What did you do to me in the pet store, to make me want to run like that?"

The creepy smile began to slice Sera's face again.

"Don't do to it me again!"

Luckily, Mr Malfoy came up behind them at that moment, and the smile disappeared from Sera's face. She looked up at her guardian with an inscrutable expression.

Something caught Severus' eye: Dobby was on the other side of the door, somehow managing to carry a cauldron cluttered with scales and pieces of a telescope set, and a great big bag of books and more on either arm. He also managed to open the door for Mr Malfoy, causing the bell to jangle crazily. "Everything but his robes, sir… Dobby doesn't know his size, sir…"

A visit to Madame Malkin's, and then Mr Malfoy led them towards the Leaky Cauldron, Dobby scrambling to keep up with his short legs and the weight of all their purchases. The group entered the shabby looking pub, and each one spotted Hagrid within an instant; he was quite tall, after all, and at the moment, roaring. The laughter was cut short when the bartender froze, and Hagrid turned to see who he was looking at.

"Ah! Mr Malfoy," said Hagrid, quickly rising to his feet. He came dangerously close to bumping into Severus or Sera; he quickly moved back, and promptly knocked the stool over. He reached for the stool with his comparatively stubby arms, and the sleeve of his heavy coat knocked over what was left of his drink. He went to pick that up, too, but the bartender had beaten him to it and was mumbling for him not to worry. Hagrid flapped his arms in defeat and looked at Mr Malfoy in embarrassment. Severus saw that Mr Malfoy had the look of smug amusement his son had worn back in the pet shop.

"Good-bye, Sera," he said in a voice without warmth, placing a hand on his ward's shoulder. "Send an owl when you can." Something in the wizard's voice signaled that the owl would not be bringing a standard Made it here safe letter.

Mr Malfoy's hand slid off Sera's shoulder and made to shake with Severus. "My dear boy, do feel free to send me an owl of your progress, if you'd like." Though he was clearly addressing Severus, he seemed to be speaking more to Hagrid. And then he was off, Sera making a face behind his back.

"Not a good idea to be doing that, Severus," warned Hagrid, watching Mr Malfoy until he had left the pub. The giant-sized man then turned his attention to the house elf. "Meetin' us at Hogwarts?" The house elf nodded eagerly. "They'll tell you where to go. Off with yeh."

The elf juggled around some of the luggage, and then snapped his fingers. With a crack, he was gone. Hagrid turned to Severus and Sera. "Hello again," he said, nodding at Sera. "Now, you two wonderin' yet how we'll get there?"

"Floo powder," said Severus unenthusiastically. He hated the feeling of whirling through air. Sera looked at him, swinging her robes idly. It dawned on Severus that she didn't have to guess.

Hagrid was grinning. "No, no, this is a real treat! Come on out back, follow me."

"A treat?" Severus whispered as they followed Hagrid out of the pub's back way.

"Not for you, you don't like flying," said Sera matter-of-factly.


End file.
